


A fistful of letters to a lost child, telling her of love to come

by mandaree1



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Drive-by therapy, Entrapta being a literal sweetheart, Everyone is a little fucked up from Prime, F/F, F/M, Friends being friends who hang out together, Gen, Half of which aren't accepted, I am... not great at titles lol, If you're wondering abt the long title, It's bc I went "what semi-deep thing can I pull outta my butt", King Micah tryna be RelatableTM, Lots of sorrys, Ngl the seamista and entrapdak are very brief background, Orphan Frosta gets New Big Sister, S'mores, Scorpia being a literal sweetheart, Shadow Weaver is a warning all her own tbh, Spoilers for Season 5, Thinking ur selfish for wanting to smooch ur gf, Tho she's not IN here she's (redacted), Uuuuhhhh lots of themes here let's see, and this is what came out, can't forget those, which is the point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: Somehow, incredibly, Catra has people who rely on her now. And it's amazing.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 471





	A fistful of letters to a lost child, telling her of love to come

The castle is so big, it's easy to get lost in. Catra enjoyed it for that; it was a lot easier for her to learn than maybe it would be other people, with her sensitive nose and ears, and when she was overwhelmed or angry or just excited she could run through them and never meet someone else.

But there was always light, and birds, and the smell of fresh air. Catra liked that too.

Bright Moon has different names for most everything. Adora's always been great at adjusting to that sort of thing, and they slip through her mouth like butter. They aren't a _squadron_ , they're a _squad_. Food has a million flavors; _sweet_ and _sour_ and _crunchy_ and _soft_ , and the bun thing she ate on the ship is _savory_. That isn't a _feast_ , it's just _dinner_. They aren't _alliance-mates_ , they're _girlfriends_.

And Perfuma, curled up in some random corner in the middle of nowhere in this unending castle, is crying from a _nightmare_ , not a bad fight with sleep.

"Are you running from your inner demons?" Perfuma asks, and sniffles, and it's such a weirdly innocent question Catra snorts.

"Nah, nothin' like that. Just running." Most of Catra hates this, but it's not, like, _hate-hate_. She doesn't hate Perfuma. She doesn't hate talking _to_ Perfuma. But pressing her back against the wall and sliding to the floor, secure in the knowledge that she's probably gonna have to decipher how to help with emotions? That part sucks. "Want me to get you someone, I dunno, actually capable of having this conversation?"

Perfuma shakes her head, and, against all odds, reaches a shaky hand out to touch Catra's upper arm. Oh, stars, is she supposed to be, like, a protective force here? Catra's stomach bottoms out in a mix of dread and fear.

"Are you sure?"

Perfuma doesn't respond.

"How about Scorpia? You guys are a thing, right? She could-"

"It was _about_ Scorpia," Perfuma says, and gasps, and starts crying harder.

"Well, fuck," Catra sighs. There's probably a Bright Moon sanctioned version of that word too, but nothing would ever feel quite as vindicating to say. "I guess I _am_ capable of having this conversation."

Perfuma snorts and snorks into her dress a moment. Catra tries very politely to not be grossed out about it. "What kind of girlfriend am I, if I have dreams like this? If I- if I think about her like this?"

"I dunno. I mean, Adora and I both have had our fair share of that stuff," Catra says, trying to make her feel better. Perfuma just looks _worse_ somehow. Desperate to make some ground on this whole comforting thing, Catra took a page out of Entrapta's book and awkwardly reached out to pat her head. "There, there?"

"I'm sorry," she blurts out. "I shouldn't've- you and Adora are legitimate and valid and-"

"And complicated."

"Yes. That."

Catra cocks her head to the side a little. "Are you scared of her?"

The answer is immediate. "No! No, of course not. Scorpia would never hurt anyone."

"But she could," Catra finishes.

"Yeah," Perfuma said, pulling her knees closer. "But she could."

"I think you're allowed to be afraid of that." She remembered the way Adora _looked at her_ after the portal and shuddered. "It's scary. Knowing that someone so close to you can hurt you."

"She wouldn't, though."

"She wouldn't," Catra agreed. "But we've all learned that only goes so far."

Perfuma hiccups. "Oh, it must've been so _awful_ for her. She cries when she thinks I can't hear, but I do."

Catra felt up the back of her neck. There was a little knot there, harder than the rest. Entrapta thinks it's her body trying to defend itself from a second time. Catra thinks that's damn smart of her body. "I don't- remember much. Of that. Just little snatches of conversation and... Adora's face." She took a second to breathe out her nose, swallowing a wave of panic. No. None of that. Not right now. "I mostly remember right before. They- they shaved me. Said they didn't want my hair getting clogged in Prime's tubes. And I fought and I bit, stars, probably enough clones to fill a room. But it was never enough. And I remember... being really scared."

"She could've drowned," Perfuma says, so soft it's like a feather in her ears. "We were under the ocean, and Mermista- I knew there was bigger problems, but I was so worried she would drown." She laughs a little. "Isn't that stupid?"

Catra shrugs. "Water sucks."

The Princess tucks her chin into the crook of Catra's neck, and this is very unfamiliar territory. All of this is. "May I- would it be okay if I spent the night with you? I can make a bed out of some flowers and... feel safer, I suppose."

"I'm not gonna make you sleep on some _plants_ , flowers," Catra replies. "Take my bed. Melog'll keep me warm."

Perfuma giggles, just a little, and Catra hears a sleepy quality to it. She's drifting off. Probably tuckered herself out. "I'm so glad you're here," she said, very seriously, but also very calmly, like this was a normal conversational focal point. "I can only imagine how much pain you felt in the Horde. Everytime I look at you now... you're so kind."

Catra whisks her tail over Perfuma's nose. "Ah, so you've fallen prey to my devious trap. Now I shall steal all your disgusting chalk bars."

"They're oatmeal and they're very tasty."

"They aren't gray and they're _gross._ They're failing at literally everything required to be a bar."

* * *

Catra has her own room, and she uses it, but she prefers Adora's.

Adora's just feels... lived in. The bed creaks when she sits down. The corner table is covered in maps and outdated strategies. Hung above that is She-Ra's original sword, slivers of a person who died almost a thousand years ago. There's a stout bookshelf filled with various kinds of literature- spells and war and, most surprising of all, poetry. Catra checks the inside covers on a hunch one day and, sure enough, they're all gifts. They all have passages highlighted, with little notes on the sides, like they're homework assignments. Scrolls of First Ones lay off to the side, unreadable to Catra, and she knows Adora practices every night.

Above it all, there's star charts. The papers are crisp and new, each marked with different names for each star and different constellations. Adora had requested local planet charts from the Star Siblings, and they had delivered.

Adora flopped a new map on top of the old one, erasing hours of hard work detecting potential Horde placements, and got to scribbling potential clone habitats then and there. Some of them were being pretty huffy about Prime's defeat, but without his guidance they're about as threatening as cadets. Wrong Hordak was making rebels out of them yet.

Catra props a knee up on the mattress and settled her chin there, arms crossed between the two harsh edges. "Is anything in here stuff you _wanted_?"

Adora's brow furrows as she sketches a line through the mountains. They might not be strong, but the clones were pretty adaptive, and could survive most anything Etheria's weather or ecosystem could throw at them. "Hey, I like my stuff."

"But it's all stuff people gave you. Don't you ever, like, walk through town and grab something for yourself?"

"Did _you_?" she fires back.

Catra rolls her eyes. "Of course I did. They give Force Captains their own shelf." Admittedly, most of the stuff on hers had been trash, but it'd been trash she'd liked. Leftover wraps that smelled like sugar from the sweets they'd held, smooth pebbles, trinkets that reminded her of Adora. Nothing elaborate. "What, did the rebels not give you an allowance?"

"They gave me everything," Adora responds, reflexively, and Catra lets out a long groan.

"Stars, this is gonna be a lifelong thing, isn't it?" she murmurs, standing up and slipping across the room. Catra wraps her arms around Adora's shoulders and takes a second to just _revel_ in that. She can _do that_ now. And Adora just relaxes back into her and _trusts her_ about it. Catra purrs and nuzzles into her neck. "What do _you_ want, Adora?"

"About what in particular?" she asks, voice hitching a little.

"I dunno. Your room. Your life. If we're really having some happy ending, let's act like it, huh?"

Adora's face crumbles. She sucks her bottom lip in and chews it harshly to avoid crying, her eyes immediately damp. " _So many things_ ," she breathed out, touching one of Catra's hands. "I want _everything_."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She swallowed. "Isn't that selfish of me? I've got so much now, and I still want more. I want- I want this to last forever. I want to wear dresses and go to balls, even though I hate both of those things. I know things will never be perfect. I know there's always going to be more to fight. And I... I want _that_. I want to feel strife too. I want... I want to marry you, someday." Her chin wobbles. "How can everything be so beautiful, and I still want more?"

Catra squeezes. "I want that too," she promises, then backtracks. "I mean, I dunno what 'marry' is, but the rest is great."

"Marriage. Like Spinnerella and Netossa."

That's a sucker punch to the stomach. She doesn't know them very well, but she knew how they interacted. She knew they threw game nights and made weird jokes about weird food. She knew they lived together. She knew that it was something that was supposed to mean forever. "Okay, I _really_ want that one."

"Yeah?" Adora echoed, the beginning of a smile flickering across her face.

"Yeah. If that's selfish, then I'm selfish-er, because I want all that _and_ a kiss."

Her eyebrows rose. "A whole kiss? For shame, Catra."

"I know, right?"

Adora twisted her head to the side, and took something she wanted.

* * *

Eventually, the clones try to build a stronghold. It's a bit nicer to call it a couple of sticks glued together. But they start going door to door in local villages, begging for people to listen to the Eda of Prime, and it's kind of necessary to get involved at that point.

It's an easy mission. Knock a few rudimentary robots out, then pretend to surrender. The clones are ecstatic. They then throw a victory feast, of which the rebellion is allowed to join, before departing for home. Eye for an eye, or whatever. They have a victory, all the repaired death bots are taken out, everyone goes home.

Micah meets them halfway, having sorted out a new system of peace between the villagers and the clones. Catra doesn't pretend to know anything about it. The man strides up to them with a goofy grin on his face, looking far from the terrifying creatures Catra had witnessed in simulations. "How do you do, fellow kids?" he asked.

"Absolutely not," Mermista says, brushing past him.

Scorpia more than makes up for it, eagerly gathering him up in a hug that sweeps his feet off the ground. "Oh, I am _so_ happy you asked! Boy, was today a day, huh? I've never seen bars carved into so many shapes! I saw a robot that was wearing one as a hat! I have never been so fulfilled before."

Catra, a bit grimly, responds; "I had one call me little sister. I punched it, so they stuck me in the time-out corner."

"A fair reaction," Micah wheezes.

Things settle into a bit of a routine from there. They keep walking back to where their transport awaits. Catra notices, mostly for the sake of keeping track, that Frosta is stumbling behind them. Catra does not engage. Frosta, however, seems to take her glance as acknowledgement, speeding up a bit to walk beside her.

"This is stupid," she declares.

"Playing pretend with a bunch of Prime clones, or not parking closer?" Catra asks. "Both are yes."

Frosta kicks a rock. "Bringing us all here! And for what? A quick dine-and-dash? It's stupid!"

"Yup."

"They keep _doing this_ to me and-" she cut herself off. Frosta crossed her arms stubbornly. "It's a long way to the Kingdom of Snows from here, okay?"

"It's not exactly a hop, skip, and a jump to Bright Moon, either. Shouldn't you be, like, excited to get home?" Catra was, but that was mostly because she really missed Melog, who had declined on a matter of finding a really nice new cushion to nap in.

Frosta slipped her tiny hands into the sleeves of her cloak. "Wanna know something weird? I've been ruler longer than anyone else in the Alliance. Before Entrapta, before Perfuma, _waaaay_ before Glimmer. No one really wanted to be my friend, since, you know, all I do is boring trade routes and meetings and stuff."

"Ah," said Catra, understanding. "There's no one waiting for you, then."

"Does a buncha boring paperwork count?" Frosta retorted. "When I'm home, I'm get kinda… you know. Lonely. And it hurts for a bit, but then I get it together and move on. I'm _good_ at being on my own, even if I don't like it. But then we all get called together, and I get so _excited_. Bite-sized missions like these just hurt."

"You could move closer."

Frosta snorted. "Nah. My kingdom is already pretty far out of reach; I don't wanna make my people think I'm leaving them out too."

Catra felt something twinge in her chest. It wasn't sympathy. It definitely wasn't pity. She thought it might be jealousy. That some randos in the middle of nowhere had this _child_ who was more sensible and self-sacrificing than she and Adora had had their entire lives. That all they got was Hordak and empty hallways and cold shadows. "I never said sorry. For wrecking your prom thing."

"I never said I forgave you," she replied, and yeah, that's fair. It's been really hard to realize and accept that sorry didn't make everything better. But she thought she was getting better at saying it, and that had to mean _something._ Adora wouldn't look so proud of her if it didn't. "I don't really remember my parents, you know? They died when I was seven."

"Horde?"

"Nah, nothing that cool. Just boring sickness stuff."

"Is it so bad?" Catra hears herself ask, though she had never intended to say it. "Not remembering?"

Thankfully, Frosta seems to find the question more interesting than offensive, staring off into space. "I think it's different? My parents- when I think of them, I feel warm. And then my chest gets tight, and I miss them. They were good people. Shadow Weaver wasn't good people."

Catra laughs a little. "No argument here."

"Do you miss her?" she shoots back, and Catra feels her fur fluff up defensively, even though Frosta's earned the right to ask by now.

"You miss a toothache when it's gone," she responds. "You hated it, but you notice. It's the same for Shadow Weaver." She dug her claws into her hands, a mess of emotions roiling in her stomach. Sadness. Grief. Rage. "She'd hate that I was happy. She was proud of me when it convenienced her, or made her seem right. She'd never be okay with me and Adora being together, because we're being happy _together_ , and she never thought either of us should have that."

Frosta slowly shook her head. "Not good people."

Catra laughs. It's a little wet. She grabs Frosta and swings her up onto her shoulder, because it really is that easy now. No one here thought she or Adora had deserved it. No one tried to defend Shadow Weaver. "I'm sure I could get sparkles to set up some extra-special trade meetings with the ambassador of Snows, and we could all just-so-happen to be at the castle when it happens. We don't have to only see each other at the end of the world."

The tiny Princess's eyes grew wide. "Really?"

"Really," she said, a promise to a younger Catra. "No one _has_ to be alone."

* * *

"Gimme the knife."

" _Cuddlefish_ ," Mermista says, with very little emotion, as she hands the pairing knife to her. "Could you possibly make that sounds any more threatening?"

Catra raises an eyebrow, chopping into an onion. The smell is horrible, and the taste is worse, but most everyone else seemed to like them. Weirdos. "Did you just use a fish as a swear?"

"My dad always said swearing was unbecoming of a lady."

"Fuck your dad."

Mermista snorts. "Since when do you cook?"

"I do not. I chop." In large, clumsy chunks, which she quickly got to work making smaller. "I figured you'd prefer the knife over my claws."

" _Ew_." She leaned on the counter. "Is it my turn for the apology train you've been chugging around Bright Moon?"

"Don't think an apology covers Salineas."

"It doesn't. But it's a nice start."

"I'm sorry."

"Coolsies. I don't accept it. It's bad enough that nerd Princess is doing vaguely unethical experiments with the former dictator in the backyard. I don't think I can ever be okay with _you_."

Catra scooped the remains and dropped them into a bowl, then grabbed another cutting board and knife for a loaf of bread. "Is this about the Double Trouble thing again? Because, trust me, they were a shit to _everyone_ , not just you in particular."

"You shed She-Ra's blood on my gate."

She mistimed that cut, accidentally making it uneven. Catra took a second to collect herself. "I've shed Adora's blood a little of everywhere. Your stupid gate isn't special."

"It kinda was, though. It was the first time. Adora said so." Mermista sets her chin on her hand. "You really broke her heart, you know that?"

Catra laughs. It's horrible of her, but she does. "I dunno if you noticed, wishy-washy, but Adora and I are kind of pros at doing that to each other."

"I know. It's kind of ridiculous." She smiles anyway. "But you make her happy, or whatever, so I guess you and I are cool. Just don't mess with my people."

There's that phrase again. "My people". It might've been cute, if not for the ever-persistent niggling whisper of _little sister, little sister, you know you miss us, little sister._ "That won't be hard, trust me. I'm not into the wet, sea shanty type."

"That's just 'cause you've never heard a proper shanty," Mermista responds with a surprising amount of passion. She stops and stares off into the distance. "Do you ever say something and, like, hear it as it comes out and immediately want to die?"

"Yes," Catra says, and hands her the end of the bread to nibble on.

* * *

Bright Moon chores are things like washing your clothes every once in awhile when you've been in a camp for too long, which is easy enough. Catra and Scorpia bask in their underclothes as they slish and slosh the fabrics through river water. It's not much, but it gets the stench off.

"Can I ask a question?" Scorpia asks. "It's gonna sound, like, really bad and accusing, and it's _not_ , but I can't word it any other way."

"Sure."

"Why does my girlfriend keep sleeping in your room?"

Catra almost fumbles her shirt into the tide- which, while sluggish, would've been a pain to recover from. "Scorpia, it's not-"

Scorpia cuts her off. "I know! I know. Perfuma isn't that kind of person, and you... well, I hope you're the same. It's not really a topic we ever talked about. I mean, poly is one thing, but this wouldn't be a properly discussed, boundary-setting kind of relationship, so it'd be bad and also kind of weird? Anyway. I just... wanted to know what I was doing wrong. To scare her away from me."

" _Shit_ , Scorpia. She's not scared of you or anything." Catra pulls her pants out and throws them onto a rock, content to wring them out later. "It's- she just wants to ask questions. About the chip. And for some reason I've become, like, _the poster child of chipping_ , even though I literally only had mine in for a couple of days, but whatever. And it just kinda spiraled into sleepovers."

"She could ask me," Scorpia says, hurt.

"She's scared of hurting you," Catra replies. "She doesn't really care if she hurts me."

"Perfuma wouldn't-"

"Not _intentionally_ , but if she steps on my toes it won't make her feel as bad as it would with you. You're too nice, you know that? For forgiving me like you did. Perfuma's holding that grudge for you."

"Oh." Scorpia awkwardly hooked out a pair of socks between a claw. "Is it bad that... makes me feel really good? Not the grudge bit, but that she's worried about hurting me."

Catra shook her head. "I treated you really bad, Scorpia. You were in love with me, and... I knew that. And I just stepped all over you. And for what it's worth, I'm really glad you found someone who can give you the love you deserve."

"It's worth a lot," Scorpia supplied. "I knew you didn't love me back. I really wanted you too, but I also knew that you and Adora had some serious gaynst going on, and there was no way I could compete with a childhood love story. And, hey. Even if it didn't work out, you'll always be my wildcat. Unless that name, like, gives you a lot of bed memories. Then we could make a new name!"

"I... really like wildcat," Catra admitted, and Scorpia positively _lit up_. "Thank you, for letting me be your wildcat."

" _How are you literally this nice_ ," Scorpia squeaked, and pulled her into a spine-crushing hug. "Man, if I'd known Adora would help you learn to trust and be comfortable this much, I would've one-woman-army-ed right into Bright Moon for her!"

"Actually, that part is your girlfriend." She settled her chin into Scorpia's shoulder, ignoring the age-old instinct to scent-mark. Not everything had to belong to something. "She's really great at that therapy thing."

* * *

Entrapta makes a sort of a nerd cave out of the rebellion's last stronghold, using it to hold her newfangled tech experiments. Only the really safe ones, she reassures them, while putting out yet another fire, which begs the question of what she's got hiding in Dryl. It's also where Hordak spends a lot of his free time, so Catra avoids going inside on the principle of the thing.

Still. It's kind of fun to make tiny s'mores on the campfire outside, and look up at the stars, and try not to feel a bit overwhelmed at how small Catra is in comparison.

"You're the only person who's visited me here," Entrapta says around a mouthful of marshmallow. She swallows. "I think they might be angry with me? My data is inconclusive."

Catra gestured to the tarp with her tail. "It's not you. _Trust me_."

Entrapta studies the flap a moment, then slowly nodded. "That's fair."

"Did you really not tell anyone?"

She shrugs. "I wasn't aware there was anything to tell."

"We both know that's bull." Catra stabbed another one through a stick to hand to her. "You never shut up about anything. I figured you'd be gushing over the weird stuff you found out when you were his partner. It's not like you to _not_ infodump."

"I knew they'd be mad," she says, her voice surprisingly quiet. "They have plenty of reason to be."

"For what? Having bad taste in men?"

Entrapta went to grab a piece of chocolate with her hair, then reconsidered and used her hands instead. Catra wasn't entirely certain one was cleaner than the other, honestly. "I knew it was dangerous. To hope. But every time I saw a clone, I'd stare really hard and hope they'd stare back. A ridiculous thing, I know, since they're all genetically and physically the same, but I just had a feeling Hordak would recognize me. And when that time came, I was going to give him his power crystal, so I knew he'd be okay."

"We killed clones," Catra reminds her. "We could've killed him too."

She flinched, but nodded.

"Ever think that's why they're mad? Because you didn't tell us to watch for him?" Catra whisked her tail soothingly across the back of Entrapta's free hand. "I mean, I might not like the guy, but I don't like a lot of people and I let them go for Adora."

"I could never ask you to do that. The net lady didn't ask anyone to hold back on wind lady, did she?" S'more prepared, Entrapta handed it to Catra, having found the entire thing to be too large. She carefully broke her next cracker in half. "It wouldn't be right of me to ask you to be nice or gentle to someone who's done so much to you all."

"I've done a lot to everybody, and most everyone has been pretty chill about it." Catra gave her side a solid elbowing, causing Entrapta to squawk and almost drop her ingredients. "Maybe next time, you can put a little more faith in your friends. They might not agree or like him, but it's not like it's hard to avoid one crusty fuck, either."

Entrapta slowly tilted her head to the side. "You've been so... agreeable," she noted.

"That's what people have been telling me. I'm... trying to keep my heart open. It's stupid, I know, but they keep coming back. I didn't have that before."

"Love," she supplied, smiling a little knowingly. "They love you, Catra. And you love them! It's a weird infection, isn't it?"

Catra looked at the sky above. A million stars. A million futures. One past, forever behind her. It was daunting, but she wasn't as terrified as Catra thought she should have been.

"Yeah," she said, her eyes twinkling with endless lights. "It's... something."

**Author's Note:**

> Season 5 utterly destroyed me. I loved every second of it. And while I have other She-Ra fics I intend to write, this felt more pressing to finish than anything else. Catra getting a support system and learning to support others and be supported fucks me up. 
> 
> Glimmer and Bow don't feature bc they had a lot of bonding time during the show itself, though I wish I could've come up with something for it. Netossa and Spinnerella are just a coincidence, since, again, I didn't have a bit for this, but I hope to write them someday. They deserve more love.
> 
> -Mandaree1


End file.
